


Something Evolving

by Rumaan



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, F/M, Rhaenys!Lives, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-02-06 15:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12820941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rumaan/pseuds/Rumaan
Summary: History is righted when Robb Stark crowns his Queen of Love and Beauty





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is super self indulgent and waves over a lot of tourney rules and credibility in a post-Robert's Rebellion world but just go with it! I thought of this scenario yesterday and had to write it. It's also kind of surprising that considering my two favourite ASOIAF houses are House Stark and House Martell that I haven't gone down this route before (ssh what do you mean Rhaenys is a Targaryen? I can't hear you over my denial ;))
> 
> Title from A Little Bit of History Repeating by the Propellerheads.

The silence was broken by a loud rippling of whispers that worked their way around pens that housed the smallfolk to the stands where the rich and noble houses of Westeros sat as Robb Stark stopped his destrier in front of the Martell box with a look of intent on his face.

Rhaenys found herself holding her breath as she heard her uncle Oberyn shift in his seat directly behind her. She could see Arianne’s fingers clench on the arms of delicately carved wooden seat next to hers and she could not help by wonder what the young Northman was playing at.

The tourney at Highgarden was said to be the largest held since that of Harrenhal. Representatives of all the great families were present, the first time any of them had gathered together this way since the Rebellion had overthrown her father’s family and placed Robert Baratheon on the throne. It was meant to be a sign of unity to herald in the third decade of the Baratheon king’s reign. It was also the first time the Martells had travelled up out of Dorne _en masse_ since the death of their princess, Elia. A show of strength some said and she knew that her very presence caused tension with the other houses. Rhaenys wasn’t deaf to the whispers that followed behind her. The last Targaryen, they murmured as she walked past even though she hadn’t officially held that name since she had been three years old.

Now Rhaenys travelled under a Martell banner and officially held the title Princess Rhaenys Martell, niece to Prince Doran. There was never any mention of her Targaryen heritage. That was the price Jon Arryn had demanded for her life. However, everyone knew King Robert had wanted her dead and it was only the fact that Dorne had never been conquered – not even by the dragons – that had kept her safe. She’d been smuggled out of King’s Landing during the sack by the teenage squire of Prince Lewyn. She had been the only one that Gerren had managed to reach and he had ridden hard out of King’s Landing, through the Kingswood, into the Stormlands and down the Boneway to get Rhaenys safely to Sunspear.

There she had stayed ever since. When her great-uncle Lewyn’s bones had been returned by Lord Jon Arryn in 284AC, he had also negotiated the terms for Rhaenys’ life. She would renounce her Targaryen heritage and only be known by her mother’s name. Doran had found no fault in this plan. Happy to keep his surviving niece alive even as Oberyn raged at him and threatened to raise Dorne in her name and return her to her rightful place on the Iron Throne.

Doran had won out and she had grown up in the household of her uncle, alternating her time between Sunspear and the Water Gardens. This was the first time she had travelled outside of Dorne since she had been snuck in all those years ago. The battle to bring her in the Martell train to the tourney had been won by Oberyn, who had worn a tired and ill Doran down until he had snapped that if anything happened to her then it would be on Oberyn’s head. So far nothing had happened to her although she made sure that she never strayed outside of the Dornish camp and never went too close to the King, who watched her closely with rage filled eyes. His Lannister Queen wasn’t much better and there had been nothing but malice in her gaze everything she turned her green eyes towards Rhaenys. Their observations of her made her skin itch and she had never been more grateful for the enduring strength of her uncle, Oberyn and the proud hauteur that her cousin Arianne perfected as heir to Dorne. Whilst with them, Rhaenys felt safe and protected.

Or she had done until now.

With hundreds of eyes turned towards the Martell box, Rhaenys felt exposed. She looked too much like her mother for it to go unnoticed and at the age of three and twenty, she was the same age her mother had been when she had been betrothed to Rhaegar Targaryen and an unwelcome reminder to many of Elia Martell’s fate.

Then the whispers turned to gasps as Robb Stark lowered his lance where the crown of pink and white roses sat at the end and presented them to her. She watched in wide eyed shock as the crown slid down the lance slowly and landed with a soft weight in her lap. Dazed, she could do nothing but stare at them in disbelief until a small giggle escaped her cousin, Arianne, and she lifted her head was caught by the bright blue eyes of Robb Stark that observed her earnestly.

“Princess Rhaenys, I proclaim you my Queen of Love and Beauty.”

It took a nudge from Arianne’s elbow to stir Rhaenys out of her stupor. Carefully picking up the wreath of roses and placing them delicately on her head, she rose to stand on trembling legs, untying the favour that Oberyn had presented to her with a flourish this morning just before they made their way to the tourney ground from around her wrist. All young maidens carried wisps of material in their house colours to present to knights who requested them and fell under their favour. Her beautiful cousin had been inundated with requests for her favour and had pretended to debate long and hard over who to bestow it on before giving it away to young Ned Dayne, who was competing in his first tourney as the famed Sword of the Morning. None had requested a favour from Rhaenys and she forgot she even had it until this very moment.

Stepping forward, she tied the wisp of orange silk around the tip of Robb Stark’s lance and was pleased to note that whilst her knees shock slightly there was not even the suspicion of a tremor in her hands to denote just how surprised and anxious she was by this turn of events.

“I am honoured to be the queen of a knight so valiant and true, Lord Robb,” she said in her low but clear voice, repeating the time honoured traditional phrases of the tourney.

With the crown of roses sitting atop her soft, thick hair and her favour tied around his lance, it was time for Robb Stark to move away and to salute the crowds as the tourney victor.

Sitting back down, Rhaenys gripped tightly onto her armrests as thoughts spun rapidly through her mind. She still could not believe what had transpired. The Northman had trotted past all the eligible young maidens of Westeros and decided to crown _her_ as the Queen of Love and Beauty. Peeking under her eyelashes, she could see the confusion from the other houses and the frozen fury on the face of King Robert. Pulling her bottom lip between her teeth, she wondered if Robb Stark would be punished for his daring act. Mayhap, he would escape any consequences for crowning a former Targaryen Princess with roses because his father was King Robert’s good friend. Looking over at the Stark box, she could see the slight tension on Lord and Lady Stark’s face although they did a good job at appearing serene and unconcern with their son’s choice.

“I bet the king is regretting allowing the Northmen to enter the competition now,” Oberyn said behind her.

Rhaenys and Arianne turned around to face their uncle, who had a pleased expression on his face. “They had to get permission to compete?” Arianne asked.

“Of course,” Oberyn said. “Tourneys are usually only contested by knights, but most Northmen follow the old gods and so are not knighted. The Young Wolf was only entered after Robert decided that this could not be a unity tourney if a whole region was disbarred because of different gods.”

The North had always seemed like a mythical land to Rhaenys. A far off land of snow and tree gods that differed from the rest of Westeros the same way that Dorne did. She had read about kings of winter and their fights with primitive people beyond the huge wall of ice that defended the northern Westeros borders with glee as a child and shivered under her blankets over tales of monsters that were born from the cold and marched with armies of the dead despite the sticky warmth of the night in Sunspear. It had seemed nothing more than a land of legend until the young lord with his direwolf helm had held out a wreath of roses and given her the honour that her father had denied her mother all those years ago.

“Will the king harm him?” she asked Oberyn quietly unable to conceal the worry in her voice.

Her uncle pursed his lips contemplatively but shook his head. “No. The king’s affection for Lord Stark is well known and that will be a shield for the boy. It will not be forgotten though.”

There was a hint of satisfaction in Oberyn’s tone as if he approved of Robb Stark’s actions and her brow furrowed a little. The rage that her uncle felt at the death of his sister was no secret. It was widely known through Dorne and she presumed in other regions. She had the fanciful notion that it wasn’t just King Robert who wouldn’t forget but Oberyn himself. It would have been more politically astute for Robb Stark to have crowned a daughter of the North or barring that either Lady Margaery or Princess Myrcella or some other beauty from an unremarkable house with an unremarkable history. Instead, he had singled her out and shown her a respect that she didn’t look to receive outside of Dorne.

Turning her gaze back towards the young Northern lord, she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as she contemplated his handsome visage and even more handsome actions. Foolhardy some would say but a small smile graced her lips as their eyes caught once more and he bowed his head in respect.

Rhaenys found that she would like to make the Stark heir’s acquaintance.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaenys attends the closing feast with Robb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I did say I wanted to write more for this and I FINALLY found the motivation to add some more. Again, this is super indulgent.

“Try not to worry,” Arianne said as she threaded tiny golden suns through Rhaenys’ lustrous hair that flowed down her back like an inky black waterfall. “You’re going to outshine everyone else at the feast tonight.”

“It is not that which worries me,” she replied, wishing the snakes that writhed in the pit of her stomach making her nauseous were only present because she wished to looked pretty. 

No, what had her sick with nerves was that she had to dine on the dias tonight with the King and Queen. It was tradition for the Queen of Love and Beauty to be escorted to the closing feast by the tourney champion who had crowned her. This meant she was to walk into the Great Hall on Robb Stark’s arm and the prospect of what could happen to her had played on her mind since the young wolf had crowned her.

“You need not worry, Sweetling,” Oberyn said, coming into her chamber. He stopped still for a moment as he took in the vision she made dressed in a burnt orange gown that contrasted perfectly with her hair and made her warm olive skin glow. “You look as beautiful as your mother, child,” he continued with a pleased nod. “Robb Stark is going to be the envy of every man in the hall tonight.”

“If I survive the first course that is,” she murmured anxiously.

“Do not fret,” Oberyn said. “I have just come from Lord Stark and he has guaranteed your safety.”

“He can do that?”

“Being the childhood foster brother to the King has perks. Plus he reassured me that any attack on you would be seen as an affront to House Stark.”

Relief washed through her, making her limbs light and the lead weight in her stomach dissipate.

“Robert would not wish to offend both Dorne and the North in one stroke. We could crush his kingdom from both sides.”

“See,” Arianne said with a smile. “Now you can concentrate on charming that very handsome Northman.”

For the first time in days Rhaenys could breath easily and let the anticipation being escorted to the feast by such an attractive man as Robb Stark. She had not been able to dwell on that aspect of the evening’s festivities because of the abject fear of Robert Baratheon finishing the job Tywin Lannister had started all those years ago. However, now she could relax and focus instead on the very pleasant prospect of spending a few hours with the Young Wolf. 

“Come, my lovely nieces, let me escort you both down,” Oberyn said, holding out both his elbows for her and Arianne to clasp onto. 

Robb Stark was waiting for her outside the hall and she was able to catch sight of him before he saw her. He was leaning nonchalantly against the wall talking to lively and cheeky looking man a couple of years older. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw how the light of the torches glimmered in his hair bringing out the fiery tints in his auburn curls. Then his companion glanced up and saw her progressing down the stairs, smirked and then nudged him in the side. Rhaenys could not help the way her heart sped up as the most glorious pair of bright blue eyes met hers and a smile of appreciation spread across his lips. 

With a murmured word to his friend, young Lord Stark stepped forward and greeted her with a deep bow. 

“Princess Rhaenys, may I formally introduce myself as Robb of House Stark.”

Putting her hand in his outstretched palm, she had to suppress a shiver as his strong fingers closed around hers and he bent down to press a whisper of a kiss on her knuckles.

“Well met, Young Stark,” Oberyn said in a pleased tone. “I consign my niece into your care for the evening and trust you will take good care of her.”

“Of course, Prince Oberyn. I would not let anything happen to her.”

“I will hold you to that. Dorne would be bereft if anything were to occur to another princess of ours.”

“The North would not stand for such actions either,” Robb Stark said firmly, his gaze steady on Oberyn’s face. 

Her uncle nodded decisively and let Rhaneys pull her arm out from under his. His mouth brushed the top of her hair and he muttered, “We’ll be close by and do not leave young Stark’s side until I come to get you.”

She could feel the waves of apprehension radiating from Oberyn and, once more, she appreciated her uncle’s care of her. Oberyn had done everything in his power to protect her. It wasn’t easy for either of them to put their trust in non-Dornish house. Not after Elia and Aegon. They had both discussed whether Robb crowning her had been planned with the King. A way to weed Rhaenys out from the midst of protective Dornishmen and it was only the reputation of Eddard Stark as an upstanding and honourable man that had led them to dismiss such ideas. It was well known that Lord Stark had argued with Robert over the fate of Elia and Aegon. His absence at Robert’s court and isolation in the North over the years did not match with a schemer who would take part in such a plot.

With another nod to Robb Stark and a reassuring smile to her, Oberyn and Arianne departed into the hall to await the start of the feast.

“Your Highness, if you please,” Robb Stark said, holding his arm out for her rest her hand on.

A cacophony sounded behind them heralding the presence of the King and Queen along with their Tyrell hosts and Robb drew Rhaenys back to allow space for their monarch to pass. 

Rage filled blue eyes swept over her and Rhaenys could not help but step closer to Robb, her hand clutching his sleeve as the hatred King Robert felt towards her washed over her making her tremble where she stood. It was followed up the more malevolent gaze of Queen Cersei and she knew without a doubt that if they could get away with it then they would kill her. 

Robb brought up his spare hand to cover her trembling fingers for a moment. “Please do not worry, Princess Rhaenys, my father and I would not countenance any danger towards you.”

Dragging her eyes away from the receding figures of the king and queen, she looked up into his face and saw the steely determination in his eyes and knew without a doubt that he meant every word he said. She drew strength from that and from her Dornish heritage. She was a daughter of Queen Nymeria of the Rhoynar and she would not falter in front of her enemies. 

When the herald called them to enter the Great Hall as the champion and his Queen of Love and Beauty, Rhaenys glided forward with her head held high and strength of her people in her step. She would not deign to cower because of the whispers and stares that followed her. 

With the tall Northman by her side, they must have made an arresting sight as the hall was so silent all you could hear was the sound of clothes rustling and the echoes of servants bustling behind the scenes. The knowledge that all eyes were on her made Rhaenys’ heart pound, but she refused to allow her nerves to show. Instead she smiled sweetly as if unaware of why their entrance caused such a stir and let her eyes rest on the where the Dornish houses sat. 

It was only when seated at the high table did she flex her hands where they rested unseen on her thighs. 

“You outshine everyone here tonight,” Robb murmured to her as normality resumed with the loud babble of noise and steaming platters being presented to the king. “Truly, the Dornish sun has come to grace Kings Landing.”

The line was very trite but sweet enough that it made her laugh lightly as she looked up at Robb and let her eyes drop to his grey and white tunic. His muted colours could have been seen as dull, however she liked how muted they were; a cool winter eve washing through the heat and stench of the Highgarden great hall.

“I thought wolves preferred the moon.”

His answering grin was dazzling and she blinked dazedly at its affect. There was no sign of the dour Northman in this son of House Stark. He was all bronzed good looks and she found that she could not look away.

“Some wolves mayhap, but this wolf definitely prefers the sun.”

Rhaenys laughter rang out once more and she could not help the slight flush on her cheeks. It was heady to flirt with such a personable young man and something she had not experienced before. She had never quite been able to let go of her mother’s story. To trust enough to think that what happened to Elia Martell would not happen to her. After all, everyone said that she was the spitting image of her. She had been too Dornish for her grandfather to care, uncle Oberyn had told her once. He would refuse to hold her and complain that she smelt of Dorne. Mayhap, her father had thought the same. His wife was of Dorne and his daughter was too. Too Dornish for him to care about what happened to them after he ran off with his pretty young Northern girl. So she had never let any man get close to her, unable and unwilling to risk being as broken as her mother. Until a blue eyed boy from the North had crowned her in front of the whole of Westeros and set her heart racing.

The venomous look sent her way by the Lannister queen and the raised eyebrows of the Tyrell women had Rhaenys remembering precisely where she was and some of her earlier anxiety returned.

“What is it?” Robb asked, clearly atune to her shifting mood.

“Why did you crown me?”

Colour crept up his skin, turning his cheeks and neck ruddy. “I did not plan to. I planned on crowning my sister, Sansa. She would have swooned at the pleasure.” 

There was an indulgent tone to his voice which showed his clear affection for his sister.

_ I had a brother once _ , she thought.  _ Would I have loved him this openly? _

“But then I saw you sitting there so serene and controlled despite all the whispers and I knew that if I was to crown anyone then it should be you.”

“So it was not because of  _ that  _ tourney.”

To his credit, Robb did not need her to explain what tourney she was referring to. “It would be a falsehood if I pretended that Harrenhal did not cross my mind. It felt fitting for a Stark to crown Elia’s daughter but I would not have taken such a risk solely for that reason.”

She had not realised how the thought that his crowning of her was purely to right the wrongs of the past had weighed on her shoulders, making her feel once more that she was nothing but a symbol. A way for the wrong dealt to her mother to be avenged by the house that had been also been dragged down by her father’s actions. A pleased feeling swept through her at the realisation that he had been impressed enough by her that he wanted to crown her despite the trouble it caused.

He leaned closer to her and murmured into her ear. “If I was a bolder man then I would have asked for your favour at the beginning of the tourney.”

Rhaenys smile returned and she looked up at him coyly from under her lashes. “I think I speak for all of the ladies of Westeros when I say that mayhap it’s a good thing you are not bolder. I am not sure we would survive.”

His teeth flashed at her sally and the rather solemn atmosphere disappeared once more between them.   

The shy smiles and sweet words continued between them as the feast drew on. She liked how focused he was on her as if they existed in their own little world with no one around to destroy it. Until someone did precisely that. And not just someone but the king himself.

“So, my namesake,” King Robert boomed, his words slurred revealing just how drunk he was. Rhaenys could not help but tense at the reminder that her companion was named for the man who oversaw the death of her mother, father and brother. “Your father finally lets you leave the North and you win a tourney. Does this mean we can see you regularly on the circuit now?”

Robb gave her an apologetic look and then turned his attention to his liege. “I am not sure I would be allowed, Your Highness. I am not a knight.”

“Nonsense!” the king exclaimed. “Ned should let you stand the vigil. I would knight you myself. Need to get better taste in who you crown though.”

Rhaenys stiffened at the blatant insult and could not help but look over to King Robert, who was glaring at her with open disdain. 

“My wife’s kin knows how to deal with dragonspawn. Mayhap I should have the kingslayer escort the girl back to her quarters.”

Her hands began to tremble and she hid them under the table once more refusing to give the drunken king the pleasure of knowing how he had upset and scared her. However, her hands do not remain cold and alone for long for there was soon the pressure of Robb’s hand over hers, bringing warmth back to her fingers and strength back to her spine.

“I am of the North, Sire, and worship the old gods,” Robb replied, ignoring the king’s last words and how dangerous they were.

“The North,” Robert grumbled. “You Starks and the North! You hide there just like your-”

Rhaenys didn’t hear what the king went on to say as a calm and well mannered voice on the her left side said, “Princess Rhaenys, I have always had an interest in the water gardens. I wonder if you would be kind enough to describe them to me.” Catelyn Stark was smiling warmly at her, understanding in eyes that were so like Robb’s. “I grew up amongst water too. Riverrun is surrounded by the Trident and my siblings and I would spend hours swimming in the river.”

“The water gardens are probably more tame than that great river, my lady,” she replied softly, trying her hardest to ignore that her father was cut down in the Trident. Killed by the man sitting one person away from her.

“I imagine a great deal warmer, too.”

“Aye, there’s nothing like playing in the water gardens during the summer. My cousins and I would spend many hours splashing around. Do you miss the water, my lady?”

“We have pools up in Winterfell, too. They were the first place that felt like home when I went to live there.”

Intrigued, Rhaenys asked, “Is it not too cold to swim in them? I hear that the North has snow even in the summer.”

“Winterfell is blessed to sit on hot springs. Therefore, the water is delightfully warm even when the snow is many feet deep. The springs heat the castle, too, which is how my thin southron blood has survived those Northern winters.”

Rhaenys did not know anyone who had ever travelled to the North - not even her uncle Oberyn had visited there during his travels. He claimed that he needed the sun to heat his blood so he travelled to warmer climes. 

“What is the North like? We only hear tales of the extreme cold and monsters that descend from the ice.”

Catelyn laughed. “If you have heard those stories then you should meet Old Nan.”

“Old Nan?”

“She’s an older retainer who has lived at Winterfell for longer than anyone can remember. Ned says she was his nurse when he was little and she was as old as she is now. She likes to fill my children’s head with blood curdling stories. Many a night have I woken to find my children snuggled up beside me claiming they are too scared to remain in their own beds.”

A pang of longing shot through her at such a tale of maternal domesticity. It was hard for Rhaenys to remember her own mother these days. All she had were snatches of memories of a sweetly smiling lady who smelt of orange blossom and sugar syrup. She could not remember her brother at all. She wished she had the opportunity to seek safety in her mother’s bed.

“Robb slept in my bed for three whole moons after Old Nan told him the story of Mad Axe.”

“I did not, Mother!” Robb interjected quickly, clearly finished talking to the king, who Rhaenys could see fondling a poor servant who was pouring him more wine.

“You did, too. And you cried when Uncle Brynden came to visit a sennight later because you thought he was Mad Axe thanks to his red beard.”

“Do not listen to her, Princess. She seeks to malign me.”

With King Robert’s attention away from her and thanks to the teasing banter of mother and son, Rhaenys was relaxed once more. “It is no shameful thing to seek the comfort of a mother, my lord. And we are all scared every now and again.”

“And what scares you, Princess?”

Her smile dropped at Robb’s words and she could not help the flicker of her eyes towards the king. Nothing scared her as much as the prospect of finding herself at his mercy. 

“Apologies, Rhaenys. My words were careless,” Robb said quietly and earnestly.

“It is nothing,” she replied as brightly as she could. 

However, she sought out her uncle in the crowd who nodded his acknowledgment at the mute appeal in her eyes. As pleasant as it had been spending time with the young Northman, her nerves were beginning to fray at the strain of being so close to the king and queen and she longed to be able to completely relax in the comfort of the Dornish lodgings.

Robb’s gaze had followed hers and the look of disappointment on his face as Oberyn rose from his table and headed towards her was flattering.

“My dear,” Oberyn said as he arrived. “It is time we retired for the night. We plan on leaving for Dorne early tomorrow.”

“Of course, Uncle,” she said,starting to rise.

Robb stood with her and bent over her hand once more. “I would like to thank you for such a delightful evening, Princess.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Lord Stark,” she replied.

Rhaenys could not resist looking back at him halfway down the hall. Her heart lifted when she saw that he watched her progress steadily. She would not miss anything from her stay at Highgarden other than Robb Stark.

\----------

However, she could not resist the shivers of delight when later that night a note was delivered from a Stark guard asking if Robb could write her. Without hesitation, she replied yes and sent the note back with all haste whilst Arianne smirked knowingly but was kind enough to forebear from teasing her.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [tumblr](http://rumaan.tumblr.com/) should you wish


End file.
